


the feeling kind

by lokh



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokh/pseuds/lokh
Summary: For some godforsaken reason, Slav is somewhat reticent about touching any of the others.
Relationships: Shiro/Slav (Voltron)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	the feeling kind

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'the feeling kind' by thao and the get down stay down. i stopped watching around the time they found out matt was alive and so canon is permanently stuck there for me

For some godforsaken reason, Slav is somewhat reticent about touching any of the others.

“I blew up at you,” Shiro says, frankly, exasperated. Slav does not relinquish his hold on Shiro’s face. “Why in the world would you be scared of them and not _me_?”

“Not ‘scared’ of,” Slav corrects, gesturing with a vague motion. The movement allows Shiro his sight back and, resigned, he adjusts Slav so that he’s no longer obstructing his view or his airways. “I am merely more familiar with you and can say with near certainty that you will not attempt to harm me.”

“Familiar,” Shiro echoes back, shaking his head (at least, as much as he is able to). “I’ll bite. How so?”

“In approximately 40.3% of realities, we are acquainted in a similar manner as in this one,” Slav states in that matter-of-factly way, barely sparing a second to conjure the numbers. “This is an extraordinarily high number, given your circumstances and the odds of having ended up in them. And in up to 98% of these realities, you would never knowingly cause me injury. Which is good, because the same cannot be said of the other 38.5% of realities where we meet under very different circumstances indeed!”

Shiro mulls over this. It takes him a second – he hasn’t had to do math in, like, a year.

“You’re telling me,” Shiro starts, slowly. “That we end up meeting in 78.8% of all realities?”

“In the ones where you end up in space piloting a flying lion, yes,” Slav amends, combing through Shiro’s hair clinically. “Though there is strangely an above zero chance of us having met even when you aren’t.”

“You’re kidding.”

“About ten percent above zero.”

“Hey, Shiro, the...”

Lance’s voice trails off, footsteps slowing as he enters the common room. Slav blinks at him, somehow having managed to braid the white tuft of Shiro’s hair. How does he even know how to braid? Shiro just looks back at him, resigned.

“Lance?” Shiro prompts, after a moment of total silence. If either of them wait any longer, he’s pretty sure Slav is going to start trying to braid the shaved parts of his head.

“Oh,” Lance says, sheepish. “Right. The Princess is looking for you – something about knowing the Galra in this sector?”

“Ah,” Shiro replies, looking about the opposite of enthused at the news. Slav paps the top of his head. “I’ll be right there. Thanks for letting me know.”

Lance nods, wordless as Shiro walks past him and out of the room, door sliding shut with an airy hiss. He’d made no move to remove Slav from his person. Slav, for all intents and purposes, seemed to be grafted onto Shiro’s side, giving no indication of wanting to extricate himself (even when this decision leads to a muffled thump and a curse down the hallway).

“He _papped_ him,” Lance says, later, accusingly, _indignantly_ , staring at the spot where he bore witness to the whole thing.

“And he... Shiro just – _accepted_ it?”

The rest of the gang (sans Shiro and, by increasingly distressing extension, Slav) shrug, but the idea has them looking a bit out of sorts. There was something weird about it, sure, but they couldn’t put their finger on any one reason for it.

“It’s not like Shiro is untouchable,” Pidge says, frowning. The idea of Slav being handsy brings her no joy – she’s already had to deal with him touching all her tech. “He pats us on the back. He high-fives us. I’m pretty sure he’s been in group hugs whether he’s liked it or not. If he didn’t want us to, he’d just say so.”

“And Slav would listen if he told him to lay off?” Keith butts in, incredulous. Slav had taken one look at him and decided he wouldn’t even attempt to make physical contact, which was both gratifying and offensive. He still has the tendency to eye Keith’s Blade of Marmora... blade, though, and it makes him twitchy.

“Actually, I don’t know if Shiro would tell him to, in those exact words,” Hunk says. Then he winces. “Um, then again, the idea of actually initiating physical contact with Shiro is...”

“ _Right?_ ”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I mean, like – it’s like if you gave your teacher a hug out of nowhere, you know? He’s an adult. We’re like, little babies.”

“He’s also a living legend,” Pidge adds. “You don’t go around casually touching legends. Maybe _you’re_ all hung up on hero worship, but _I’m_ totally fine with hugging Shiro.”

Lance scratches his cheek. Hunk makes an ‘ehhh’ noise and a teetering motion with his hand.

“You don’t count. You’re Pidge.”

“Okay, so Slav doesn’t care about any of that. Maybe it’s weird because Shiro’s not a touchy-feely kinda guy. But casually being _draped_ all over him? Feels like we’re waiting for him to snap.”

On that, they had to agree.


End file.
